


Mistletoe

by Slythstiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: (  ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°), (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ, And tripping, Angst, Boys Kissing, Castiel is a Jerk, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Cute, Dancing, Dean in Denial, Drunk Castiel, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hate to Love, Hurt/Comfort, Lots of Angst, Lots of denial, M/M, Mistletoes, Misunderstandings, Pining, Shh, Slow Build Castiel/Dean Winchester, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, and stepping on each others feet, angst cute, but dean is mean too, but they do end up together, cas is a little rude, deans touchy, hesrude, it's really cute, its mostly cas though, jess is really sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-06
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-06 08:02:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3127109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slythstiel/pseuds/Slythstiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel hires Dean to act as his boyfriend so he can attest his sister's wedding in peace. Only Dean is kind of an idiot who manages to break every rule Castiel has made. </p><p> </p><p>Castiel regrets it pretty damn fast.</p><p> </p><p>“Dean, I hope you’ve packed warm clothes, Vancouver in December is really cold.” She smiles once more before Gabriel has her attention.</p><p>At this, Dean sputters. He coughs a bit and then looks at Castiel with big eyes.</p><p>“Remember, darling? I told you Anna’s getting married on New Years.” Castiel’s smile stretches even bigger and he’s hoping Dean can just play along.</p><p>"Yes, of course, I remember.” Dean spits out, turning a little so his lips brush against Castiel’s ear.</p><p>“I didn’t bring a jacket, you said it was a wedding!” Dean whispers in his ear and Castiel shivers, mostly on impulse.</p><p>“It is a wedding, you sod, a wedding after Christmas.” Castiel says, pressing his lips together.</p><p>Dean blinks, finally letting go of Castiel’s waist.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jellyfishline](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jellyfishline/gifts).



December 15

 

Dean’s fingers are starting to dig into Castiel’s waist and he can’t remember the last time he cursed this son of a bitch about his damn fingers.

Oh yeah.

5 minutes ago.

Of course it’s in his head because his mom is standing right there and his dad’s facial expression is a monotone one.

Actually, he’s not even paying attention, he’s looking at his phone, swiping and scrolling every once in a while.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dean.” His mom states, voice soft yet there’s a tone of boredom and displeasure behind it. It’s not that she cares about whom Castiel ends up with. Her priorities lie with Anna and her marriage. Which is the only reason Castiel’s standing here, fake smile plastered upon his face with Dean. It’s almost as if Anna’s words ring in Castiel’s ears; “Castiel, you better bring your boyfriend or whatever to the wedding. I’m not so sure your excuses are believable anymore.”

This happens to be Castiel’s fault. He’d been so into his books and history, literature and arts that he’d forgotten that as the 24-year-old son of the Milton’s, he needed someone by his side.

So he’d lied.

And lied.

And lied his way out of having to find some guy to wake up in the morning next to. And it was fine. It wasn’t even a problem because his parents and brothers didn’t care much at all. It was Anna who kept persisting and persisting until out of the norm he’d slammed his book and snapped out a yes, yes that he’d bring his boyfriend to her wedding.

Jesus Christ he was an idiot, and he’d realized that approximately 0.01 seconds after he’d said it.

But Anna was pleased, a smile taking over her previous frown and she’d left within seconds, leaving Castiel groaning.

So Castiel took the initiative and tried the next best thing to telling the truth. He lied the fuck out of this as well.

Somewhere along the lines he lied about his ‘boyfriend’s’ tragic death and how he just lost his dog and a wedding might not be suitable. He also lied about getting severe food poisoning from the fresh seafood fine dining restaurant they went to on Monday. It only lead to disapproving glances and a headshake that had Anna’s fiery red hair flying in the air.

So Castiel spent the rest of the week wallowing in self-pity with a bottle of fine JackDaniels because Michael and Gabriel weren’t being forced to bring dates to the wedding. But then again his older brothers are sex bunnies and Castiel’s own sex life is just as exciting as the dust bunnies gathering under the couches where Hayley keeps forgetting to clean.

Castiel is really good with history and a natural admirer of art, but he’s also known for making pretty damn stupid life choices and he made the next bad choice within two days.

As soon as he’d gotten home from a quick walk around the neighborhood, Castiel had called up his best friend Jess who told her husband who emailed him a picture of a green eyed man and the name Dean Winchester. Sam had promised the guy was pretty charming and $200 every two days was a fine price.

The desperation was beginning to bleed into Castiel’s every single breath so he’d agreed and hired him. They talked briefly on the phone, about ten minutes and Castiel had told Dean that he’d have to come all the way to Seattle from Kansas on the 15th of December. Dean was skeptical but a quick reminder of his pay had him ready to go by the 14th.

Dean had parked outside the family estate around 30 minutes ago and as of now, he’s standing awfully close to Castiel, smelling of motor oil and worn leather.

Castiel is really reconsidering all his life choices.

Anna is particularly pleased to meet Dean, with his smile and easy way of talking; Castiel knows he meets Anna’s expectations.

“Dean, I hope you’ve packed warm clothes, Vancouver in December is really cold.” She smiles once more before Gabriel has her attention.

At this, Dean sputters. He coughs a bit and then looks at Castiel with big eyes.

“Remember, darling? I told you Anna’s getting married on New Years.” Castiel’s smile stretches even bigger and he’s hoping Dean can just play along.

“Yes, of course, I remember.” Dean spits out, turning a little so his lips brush against Castiel’s ear.

“I didn’t bring a jacket, you said it was a wedding!” Dean whispers in his ear and Castiel shivers, mostly on impulse.

“It is a wedding, you sod, a wedding after Christmas.” Castiel says, pressing his lips together.

Dean blinks, finally letting go of Castiel’s waist.

“You can borrow one of Michael’s.” Castiel offers and doesn’t wait for a reply.

Everyone is sitting in the living room, drinking their Pellegrino and waiting for whatever cue they need to gather their things and head to the airport.

The jet will wait for them no matter how long the Milton family takes, but it’s better to get going earlier.

“Excuse me.” Castiel murmurs, getting up from his seat on the couch and rushing upstairs.

Michael is all packed and ready, his suitcases sit just outside in the hall, mixed with Castiel and Gabriel’s.

Castiel picks through Michael’s closet, finding a winter jacket he bought a couple of weeks ago and stuffing it into one of his suitcases.

He grabs a toque and a pair of gloves as well. Just as he begins to descend the stairs, Isaac and Derek pass him, probably to get the suitcases.

“Castiel, darling we’re leaving.” His mom informs him and Castiel nods, fiddling with the collar of his shirt.

He’s grateful Dean came in a pressed shirt and slacks, how odd he’d look without them, standing between the Milton’s. But he still has the worn out leather jacket on.

“Jesus, were you born in a farm, your shirt is untucked.” Castiel grumbles, waiting until everyone has left so he can tuck Dean’s shirt in.

“Excuse me, I drove the entire day to get here, sorry my shirt is untucked.” Dean mutters sarcastically, but he lets Castiel tuck the shirt in.

They head out to join everyone else, Castiel persuades Dean to hand his keys to Isaac so he can park the car in the Milton garage and they settle into the limousine with Anna.

“Inias said he’d be at the airport.” Anna claps her hands a little, grinning. Ah, Inias. The shrimpy, scaredy cat of a fiancée.

“That’s great, Anna.” Castiel says, mostly just exhausted of the days events. Yet it’s only 3 o’clock.

Dean’s pressed himself to the window of the limo and Castiel’s glued to the other window. The less he has to touch this stranger, the better. But Sam had promised his brother wasn’t a thief or a murderer and he wouldn’t kill Castiel and steal all his money.

Anna chatters away for most of the ride to the airport, talking excitedly and her voice rising a little every time she mentions her wedding. Castiel isn’t really listening, and Dean’s fallen asleep, face mushed against the glass window. It’s fucking weird.

Castiel hasn’t ever been a car person. He’s never been a tight spaces person. Of course, the limousine isn’t crowded; it’s just the three of them and the driver along with the liquor fridge. It’s air conditioned and cool, but for some stupid reason, Castiel is a little uncomfortable. It only grows as the ride wears on.

Finally they reach the airport and as the drivers begin to fiddle with their bags, the Milton’s and Dean board through the private jet terminal.

The plane ride isn’t long, only 45 minutes.

“How long?” Dean asks Castiel when they’ve settled into their seats. The plane isn’t even in the air, yet Dean’s clutching the seat handles like his life depends on it. Castiel frowns, tilting his head back.

“It’s about an hour, you’ll be fine.” He assures drily, turning to face the TV that sits parallel to his seat. One of the flight attendants comes by asking what they would like to drink.

She’s really pretty, blue eyes and dark black hair that has Dean sitting up attentively.

“Just some lemon water.” Castiel says, reaching for his book.

From the corner of his eyes, he can see Dean lean closer to her and she giggles.

Not that Castiel really cares, but Anna’s looked up from her phone to see where the source of that annoyingly loud giggle is and her frown only deepens when she sees Dean.

And then Castiel realizes how unusual it is that Castiel’s loving boyfriend is flirting with the flight attendant while Castiel continues to keep reading.

So he sighs loudly, grabbing Dean’s collar.

“Come here.” He hisses, dragging a protesting Dean all the way to the back bathrooms.

Once he’s locked the door and shoved Dean on the toilet, Castiel presses his hands to his forehead.

“You can’t go around flirting.” He says through clenched teeth because if there’s one thing Castiel isn’t, it’s patient.

Dean’s looking at him, once again, blankly and it dawns on Castiel that this guy really can’t put two and two together.

“If you flirt with her, it’s going to look odd.” He explains, running a hand through his hair.

Dean finally gets it, nodding slowly and Castiel pinpoints the realization with a satisfied nod.

They’ve never really talked about terms and conditions, Castiel isn’t ready to let Dean push past his limits but he’s kind of lazy, so he decides whatever is fine, as long as Dean loosens his fingers around Castiel’s waist. They won’t need to kiss; no one is going to ask them to. They won’t need to be overly affectionate because Castiel really hates PDA. It’ll all work out.

Cas pushes Dean out of the bathroom because really, it’s a cramped space and then he huffs, clearing his throat before following him back to their seats.

Castiel isn’t an idiot; he can already hear Anna and Gabriel snickering in front of them.

Yes, they went to the bathroom, no they didn’t go to make out.

 

December 20

 

Castiel hates the cold. He hates a lot of things, and Anna refers to him, as the year round Grinch but Castiel simply can’t help it. There are a lot of things in the world that irritate him and Dean holding Castiel has to top the list. His fingers dig into Castiel’s waist and shoulders and arms and everywhere he touches.

It’s their bad luck that someone decided to stick mistletoes around their hotel room in the holiday spirit (Castiel bets all his money that it was Gabe).

Everyone is enjoying themselves. Anna and Inias are hopelessly unable to pay attention to anyone but each other and Castiel’s mum and dad aren’t around long enough. So it leaves Michael and Gabriel to explore the vast expanse of Vancouver (and hang up mistletoes) and Dean and Castiel to stay cooped up in their hotel room.

It’s been five days yet all Castiel does is read, catch up on historical articles and finishes the paperwork assigned to him by his dear father. It’s probably because Michael is already a great company support and Gabriel is smart when he tries and besides, Anna is basically the genius in the family, so it leaves Castiel as the lower paperwork guy and the dealer of other miscellaneous errands. It doesn’t bother him too much, as long as he’s not swamped like Michael is.

So like every other morning in Castiel’s life, his dads’ assistant, Naomi, comes by with a list of things Castiel has to look over. So Castiel settles down on the couch, sitting crisscross and looking over the stock files, glasses perched on his nose.

“Good morning.” It’s Dean, hazy and still sleepy by the looks of it.

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel replies, going back to scrawling notes with a red pen. He has to wait for Dean to shower and get ready so they can go get brunch because now it’s 11:30am.

“If you wanted a kiss, you could’ve just asked.” Dean’s tone is light, teasing almost and referring to the several mistletoes surrounding Castiel. He rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore the comment.

“Wake up earlier, it looks weird when I walk down for breakfast alone.” Castiel tells Dean, pressing his lips together. He’s told Dean every morning for the past three days and he never listens. So Castiel has stopped going down for breakfast all together. But it doesn’t stop him from telling Dean to wake up so they can go get food and Castiel can stop waiting for Dean hungrily.

“Yeah, ok.” Comes the reply as Dean walks away.

Castiel sits until his legs feel a bit cramped from sitting here since 9 am and his slacks are all wrinkled. Great.

As the sons and daughter of the CEO of one of the biggest architectural companies in the US, Castiel, Anna, Gabriel and Michael are always dressed properly.

So Castiel has to go back to the temporary rack that holds all his pressed pants and shirts, changing into the navy shirt and black pants.

Dean brought good clothes with him, a good set of pants and shirts but Castiel had to send out Naomi to buy Dean some more slacks and shirts after eyeballing his size. A quick trip to the dry cleaners and all 10 pants and 6 shirts Charlie brought were Milton worthy.

As Castiel waits, he puts on his dress shoes, hands shoved into his pockets.

Then he waits for Dean to finish dressing once the shower stops running.

Dean’s an ok guy. He’s able to charm anyone who’s skeptical about Castiel and his ‘relationship’, smoothing out all the crinkles and holes they’ve set up from being a really, really shitty couple. It helps that Dean’s a better actor than Castiel, swooping in every now and then to help Castiel fix the problems he accidentally creates.

“Okay, I’m ready.” Dean walks out, wearing a dark blue shirt and grey pants. They look too similar, like one of those cheesy couples that like to dress in color coordinated ways so Castiel groans, pointing to the hall.  
“Put on a white shirt.” He instructs, “and take down those mistletoes!”

Sure enough, Dean comes back five minutes later, shirt changed and 12 mistletoes in hand. He throws them in the wastebasket and they finally leave the room.

Castiel is so hungry he could eat ten cows but he forces himself to slow down on the omelet and focus on what Anna’s saying. His dad is already gone, but everyone else has gathered, mostly to eat fruits and pastries except for Dean and Castiel. From the corner of Castiel’s eye he can see Dean struggling not to scarf down his eggs as well, and he smirks to himself.

If he’s going to suffer, Dean’s going to suffer too.

Anna and Inias get whisked off by their wedding planner around noon and Castiel’s mom leaves to go visit some friends who live in Vancouver.

Castiel retreats back to the hotel room to finish up his work, turning on the TV so the silent room is filled with noise.

 

Dean’s at the dining hall longer, waiting for the Milton’s to file out so he can eat peacefully. The food is delicious but the silverware is bothering him, so Dean just eats his egg sandwich with his hands instead of the knife and fork combo the Milton’s were using.

They were some classy ass people.

He finishes the eggs and drinks some coffee, sitting there lazily because he’s unsure of where to go now.

Eventually he decides he’s not really in the mood to get lost in Vancouver so Dean heads back to his shared hotel room. It’s ridiculous, how he has to be dressed properly all the time. The shirts have starched collars and Dean’s almost unable to believe how these people can take have itchy collars on their necks.

Dean walks into the hotel room, unfocused because this collar is so itchy and he’s going to burn the bitch that starched this shit.

He’s literally about to enter the room when, “Jesus Christ!”

It’s Castiel, eyes blown wide and completely surprised as his laptop almost falls but luckily Dean isn’t too much of an idiot so he dunks down to catch Castiel’s laptop before it hits the ground.  
“That was close.” He smiles sheepishly, handing back the laptop to Castiel, who doesn’t look too happy.

“Yes, so close. Why the hell aren’t you careful?” Castiel spits and Dean rolls his eyes.

“Please, it was an accident.” He retorts.

“Well, if you’re careful, accidents like that don’t happen.”

“The itchy collar was distracting me.”

“Itchy collar my ass, deal with it.

“Don’t be an asshat, it’s my first time wearing these.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Castiel mutters under his breath and Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Excuse me?”

“What? Don’t look at me like that, we all know it’s true.”

“Well maybe you shouldn’t have hired me—“ Gabriel appears Dean so suddenly that it has Dean pausing and having to take a breath because holy fuck he might’ve just suffered ten heart attacks because of Gabriel.

Gabriel frowns a bit; turning to face Dean and all Dean can think about is where this guy even came from.

“H-hired me to love you, b-because I love you so much, da-darling.” Dean finishes, voice shaky because jeez that was close.

“Huh? What’re you sayin—”

Dean’s mind is screaming ‘shut up! Shut up!’ but seeing the circumstances he can’t yell that out loud so he plants a kiss on Castiel’s mouth.

They’re dry.

Castiel’s lips are chapped as fuck.

Dean really doesn’t want to deal with the awkwardness that comes with talking to Gabriel Milton because the guy sure knows how to make Dean uncomfortable.

So he pushes Castiel against the open door and lets out a sound that’s a cross between a pathetic moan and a gasp just so this looks more real. From his peripheral vision Dean can see Castiel’s eyes as wide as saucers but he’s hoping his back covers Castiel so Gabriel doesn’t notice his wide eyes.

Dean’s hoping this kiss comes off desperate and Gabriel gets the message and gets the fuck out of here so Dean can lock the door and curl into safety.

Dean pulls away momentarily to shove Castiel into their hotel room, still kissing the fucker’s dry lips before pulling away just a bit.

“Goodbye, Gabriel.” He croons cheerfully against Castiel’s mouth and shuts the door.

 

Dean realizes he’s fucked up about 0.01 seconds after he shuts the door.

He retracts from Castiel’s body, “sorry about that, he wasn’t going to leave…”

Castiel stares at Dean, as if he finally realizes what had happened, using his sleeve to wipe his mouth before he nods slowly.

“Yes, well, remember, be dressed by 5, we have to attend the banquet.” Castiel manages to say, voice low and calm.

Dean blinks, unable to say anything so he just balks at the ground.

“Okay, well, I’m going to go outside,” Dean coughs a bit, unable to deal with the awkward that fills the room like hot air.

When he looks up, Castiel’s already disappeared into the bedroom.

Dean sighs heavily, tugging on the borrowed jacket and slipping out of the hotel and into the icy winds of late afternoon Vancouver.

When did it come to this?  
Dean’s pretty sure he remembers exactly how this conversation with Sam went when his brother proposed the idea.

Of course he’d brought Jess, who’d brought her laptop.

The guy was a friend of Jess’; she showed Dean a picture of him on her laptop. The picture was taken at some party, so Jess was smiling and the guy was smiling and the lighting was really too bright and just hitting the guy at such awkward angles yet all Dean could concentrate on was his high cheekbones and messy hair. He was really, really handsome.

And smiling.

Some part of Dean’s brain was convinced he could totally deal with the hot guy for a week or so, so he’d said yes on the spot.

Call him superficial, but from his perspective, not all hot people were bad.

Misconception, really. And a shame, too. Such a pretty face went to such a rotten personality.

As soon as Dean had talked to him, Castiel was his name and Jess told Dean he only preferred to be called Castiel; Dean realized that the guy wasn’t exactly the friendliest person ever. His voice was cool, sharp and much softer than Dean’s, who felt he sounded a bit like a hillbilly clown talking to him.

Ok, well. Maybe Castiel was shy.

Dean kept all his thoughts to himself, deciding that judging before meeting was a bad idea. Plus, Jess had told Dean the guy wouldn’t sacrifice him to the Gods and that he was a normal guy. That could count for something when they met.

When they did, Dean realized it was probably better if he did sacrifice Dean to the Gods because this guy was a royal pain.

But they didn’t have a single minute to talk and as soon as Dean had stopped his car, Castiel showed up and hurried him into the estate. It was a huge place, a huge house with about half a dozen people lounging on the couches. Dean felt personally glad he’d chosen to switch into his pressed pants and shirt at the gas station up north because he didn’t feel odd sitting between the Milton’s. He’d figured it’d be okay if he went ahead and just acted natural, so he’d placed a hand on Castiel’s waist and glued himself to Castiel’s side, sitting down on the couch and hoping that was enough. And it was. But Castiel was a moody bitch who didn’t like Dean holding him tightly and Dean had fought the urge to call him a little doll because Dean wasn’t pressing hard, Castiel was just not used to it.

Aside from today, Dean had never needed a reason to be intimate with Castiel. All they did was show up together and occasionally hug and hold hands. This was a good and for someone getting paid $200 a day, this was great.

Dean stuffs his gloves into the jacket pockets and pulls out his phone. He exhales sharply, letting his breath condensate. He doesn’t want to stay in the hotel any longer; there isn’t anything for him to do. So he dials Sam’s number, hoping his brother picks up.

“Hello, Dean?”

“Hey, Sammy! How’re you?” Dean asks, taking a turn towards a park.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been walking, but at least he’s found a place to sit. There aren’t many people there, it’s brutally cold, and Dean can feel his nose beginning to go numb, yet he takes a seat on the icy park bench.

“I’m good, Dean, what about you? How’s Castiel treating you?”

“He’s treating me fine, Sammy, he’s just…difficult.” Dean replies irritably.

“I wish you’d come back for Christmas…” Sam says wistfully, and Dean feels his shoulders slump.

“Yeah, but I’ll call, okay? Going to have to spend Christmas and New Years with the rich snobs.” He says slowly, curling his toes in his boots.

Who knew winter in Vancouver could be so unforgiving?

Sam laughs over the phone and his voice comes out muffled, “yeah, well, glad you called, but Jess needs me in the kitchen.” His voice is apologetic and Dean nods, “yeah, okay. Bye, Sam.”

“Bye, Dean.”

He ends the call and sighs, deciding he should walk back to the hotel before he loses feeling in his legs.

Which is stupid because stupid Dean was preoccupied with his stupid thoughts about stupid Castiel.

They’re staying at Fairmont Waterfront, Dean knows that much. But the trouble is getting back. It takes him almost half an hour of wandering aimlessly in downtown Vancouver, shivering violently before he sees a hotel car and follows it.

Sometimes, Dean’s brain just doesn’t work.

As soon as he opens the hotel door, Dean’s hit with a warm gust of air, which he welcomes happily. But he’s still so cold and Dean has 2 hours to kill before he has to get ready so he decides that when he gets into the hotel room, he’ll order some soup because he’s fucking cold.

Dean swipes his card and opens the door, already thinking about crawling into the covers of the bed (there’s only one bed and it’s Dean’s turn to sleep in it).

Dean flings his jacket off and considers ordering the soup, but he’s had a rough morning and all he wants is to sleep so he takes off his pants and changes into a loose shirt, padding into the hotel bedroom. Upon reaching the room, Dean realizes it’s occupied, and he groans.

Which is unfair, really. Because Castiel knew it was Dean’s turn yet he’s still curled up in the bed. His papers are scattered a little, he’s still wearing his glasses as well. Dean frowns, wrinkling his nose a little because he really is cold and the bed looks really, really warm.

Castiel’s fast asleep, his face is barely visible in the swathe of blankets and Dean doesn’t want to sleep on the couch (it’s his day) so he grimaces, slipping Castiel’s glasses off his nose and onto the bedside table and climbs onto the other side of the bed.

The blanket is huge and the bed is even bigger, Castiel’s taking up less than half the space so Dean decides it would be fine if he went to sleep on the right side. It’s not like he’s invading the private space of Castiel’s sleeping body so he just drags the covers towards himself a bit.

Immediately, the heat under the blanket overwhelms Dean. It’s really, really warm, Castiel’s body puts off heat like a radiator. Dean shudders, yawning and adjusting into a comfortable position that is far, far away from Castiel.

Somehow, Dean wakes up holding a person, pressed against his chest and lets face it, no one is an Einstein when they wake up and Dean barely does a good job of remembering where he left his keys so it is pretty surprising when he opens his eyes and he’s met with a mess of dark, black, fruit smelling hair. Dean’s pretty sure he just suffered a heart palpitation but he manages to exhale shakily, untwining his fingers from Castiel’s because he is indeed holding them.

As long as he can get out of the bed before Castiel wakes up, nothing will happen.

It’s fine, Dean uses quick fingers to get himself out of the blanket, which is no easy task since Castiel’s body is buried under the blankets and Dean’s other arm is trapped under Castiel’s body.

Somehow he does get out, a surge of accomplishment fills Dean as he takes the last initiative to remove himself from the blanket but he’s really in the wrong place at the wrong time and who doesn’t untangle their fucking feet?  
He’s falling fast, and it’s surprising (it seems everyone is out to give him a genuine heart attack today), as he inhales slow, grabbing onto what seems to be the blanket and that also turns into a mistake because the blanket really isn’t the blanket, it’s Castiel’s shirt and he’s literally pulling Castiel down with him.

Dean notices the pain first. Then the breath being knocked out of him. Then he notices the hazy blue eyes that stare down at him, blinking sleepily. Dean can’t be bothered to push Castiel off of him; his forehead is really starting to throb. It takes him a second to figure out that he’s knocked foreheads with Castiel and it really, really, hurts.

“Oh…” He groans, cursing lightly. His chest feels tight but that’s probably because Castiel’s still on top of him.

“Could you, uh, move?” He wheezes out, and Castiel finally comes to his senses and scrambles up.

He looks dead, standing there for a moment before helping Dean up.

Dean watches as Castiel touches his own forehead and winces. His shirt is untucked and rumpled, the first few buttons are coming undone and Castiel’s pants are wrinkled. Dean’s never going to admit this, and if anyone finds out, he’s going to deny it to his dying day but Castiel is really, really cute right now. Which is probably really stupid since he’s 24 and Dean himself is 26 (too old for such childish thoughts) and this is really no way to think about his current moneymaker. His hair is piled high and messy, strands stick up everywhere and Dean can’t help but stare into his eyes. They’re either extremely bright or Dean’s just standing too close.

And then Castiel speaks up.

“What the hell were you doing?”

Dean steps back because he is indeed, standing too close to Castiel.

“Uh, I was, uh…sleeping?” He mutters awkwardly, shuffling on his feet.

“Didn’t you see me sleeping?” Castiel snaps and Dean whips up to look at him.

“It’s my day though!”

“But you don’t get in a bed with someone sleeping!”

“It’s not like I purposely shoved you into my arms!” Dean replies hotly.

“Yeah, well I ended up in them anyway!”

“God, Cas, I’m sorry, okay?”

“No, whatever. And my name is Castiel, jerk.”

“How does that make me a jerk?” Dean looks to Castiel, moving just a bit closer so he comes off a little more intimidating.

“Because my name is Castiel, and Cas is fucking weird.” Castiel replies, moving backwards.

Dean’s stepped forward again, but it’s a very unconscious reaction.

“It’s a nickname and you give them to people because they’re affectionate!”

“Oh, so now you’re affectionate?” Castiel mutters sarcastically and Dean shoves him a little. The backs Castiel’s knees knock against the bed frame and Dean smirks.

“Judging by your asshole personality, you could use it.”

At that, Castiel glowers.

“You’re lucky it’s too late to hire someone else.” He spits.

“You’re lucky I’m even here.” Dean says and he realizes that might’ve been a stretch.

“You’re only here for the money.”

“I’m here because no one else will do what I’m doing!” The words leave his mouth before he can even fathom.

Castiel mocks a gasp, feigning his sadness, “I’m so heartbroken, Dean broke my heart!”

“I can’t break what isn’t there.” Dean growls.

It seems to make Castiel pause. The anger on his face dissipates into something of raw emotion but it’s replaced with a poker face within seconds.

Castiel simply watches Dean with an untraceable emotion that has Dean shifting slightly.

“The banquet is in 30 minutes.” Castiel says coolly, voice clipped.

Dean stands, silent because he’s not going to carry this on. As much as he hates Castiel right now, he’s going to put up with it because he needs the money.

“I’m going to go get dressed.” He answers shortly, leaving the bedroom.

The tension is high at the banquet.

Dean keeps close to Castiel and pretends to be interested in all the people who’ve come. It’s a black tie event, so Dean’s wearing a black suit and a black tie, and Castiel is wearing a black shirt and a white vest with black slacks. No matter how much Dean doesn’t want to be here (or with Castiel, as a matter of fact), he has to admit they look good together.

Of course, this is a formal party, so Castiel doesn’t have to cling onto Dean, and for that, he’s grateful.

Dean’s listening to a woman in a black dress drone on about how dreadful her flight was, nodding and asking questions on cue when Castiel taps his shoulder.

“Excuse me.” He says to the woman, smiling politely and following Castiel to their dining table.

The Milton’s are already seated; Dean has to admit, no matter how despicable the family is, they’re gorgeous. Mrs. Milton has a full sleeve black dress on and heels so tall that they make Dean dizzy. Anna’s wearing a low cut, V-neck black dress and her red hair is done up. She’s really pretty, and Dean might’ve decked out his charm if it weren’t for the fact that his ‘boyfriend’ is sitting beside him and her fiancée is sitting with her. The brothers have matching suits on, except Gabriel wears a bow and Michael is wearing a tie. Inias just looks jumpy and frightened, like always and Dean can’t fathom for the life of him why Anna would marry him.

Anna makes polite conversation with Dean, asking the classic relationship question.

“Where did you guys meet?” Her question is seemingly innocent, but it catches Dean off guard and he blinks, staring.

“A-at a party…” Castiel jumps in and Dean snaps to reality.

“For my goldfish!” He adds unhelpfully.  
“Who d-died?” Castiel stammers out, really, they should’ve thought of this before.

“S-so it was a funeral.” He covers up, “my brother’s wife invited Castiel…” He finishes off pathetically.

Anna’s switching between staring and Dean and Castiel, nodding slowly.

“O-oh? That’s, uh, nice…”

Dean laughs a little, it’s fake and desperate. He kind of wants to bury himself in a hole now.

The banquet is for one of the Milton’s business partners, so there’s a couple of speeches and toasts before the waiters come by with the food.

It’s served in 4 courses, Anna and Inias seem to be the only ones talking, and the brothers murmur in hushed voices between courses.

Dean had always wanted a life like this.

Money, power, women.

But now that he’s experiencing it, he has doubts. They attend parties and banquets like these all the time. There’s a public image, the sole reason Dean is here is to boost the public image of the Milton’s. From what Dean’s gathered, Inias’ family owns a major sea port, they control the export and import in much of Vancouver and for that, he’s filthy rich. The marriage between Anna Milton and Inias Shurley would probably be the biggest news in business. As for Castiel? His being single for the past 5 years, since the age of 19 is beginning to take toll on the Milton’s. As a public figure, Castiel needs a partner. Michael and Gabriel are already the playboys in the family; besides, their contribution to the business is enough.

These reputations to uphold, a single word could ruin them. Dean’s not sure this is the life anyone wants.

Some people inherit it, and others, make it for themselves.

While Cain and Colette Milton made this for themselves, Castiel, Anna, Michael and Gabriel Milton inherited it. But they keep the reputation upheld, and for that, they are useful.

It still amazes Dean.

Jess had never told Dean or Sam about how she got to know Castiel; it was curiosity sparking now that Dean was aware of how high Castiel was in the social ladder.

He sighs, realizing he’s thinking too much about the people who won’t give him a second thought after 2 weeks.

Dean shakes it off and laughs politely at what Gabriel says.

 

December 25

 

Christmas is a weird celebration. Castiel can’t remember the last time he’d opened a present with his family around a Christmas tree. The festivities had stopped after he’d turned 15. Now, he woke up just like any day, and Naomi came by to drop off the papers with a cheerful “Merry Christmas!”

Castiel had smiled warily and wished it back to her though he didn’t care much anymore.

He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, filing through all the documents that have to be FedExed back to their main offices in Seattle.

It’s only 9 o’clock when Dean pads into the living room, flopping down on the couch beside Castiel. 

They’ve come to terms over the past five days. If you look past Dean’s stubborn, irrational ways, then he’s not so bad. If they can get along, then they can make this work. Of course they’d also ended up spending more time at family functions and really, wasn’t this a vacation? It meant Dean was clutching Castiel’s hand almost all the time, kissing his cheek or nosing at his ear to whisper something. They’d smile on cue and Dean would pretend to laugh at what Castiel would say. Then Dean would shoot Castiel one of those ‘I fucking love you, I hope you know that’ kind of stares at seemed to make Anna coo. Although Castiel wasn’t fond of it, no one questioned how a couple weeks before he’d magically shown up with a boyfriend who no one had ever seen and claimed that he loved the ‘boyfriend’ to pieces.

“Good morning.” Castiel greets, looking over his glasses towards Dean. He wears his contacts almost all the time, glasses are clunky and a hassle. But eventually, when the contacts begin to burn, he puts on the glasses to work.

“Morning.” Dean’s still yawning, it’s obvious he’s still a bit slow, but he’s putting effort to wake up. Castiel hadn’t bothered to change out of his sleeping attire. He was going to wait for Dean and then they’d head out together anyway.

“Nothing special happening today, just dinner at a restaurant and then we’re headed to Anna and Inias’ room for some Christmas movies.” He explains, “I hope you got the present.”

Although they don’t exchange presents with everyone, Dean and Castiel still need to bring presents to give each other, just like Inias and Anna would and Gabriel and Michael as well. Castiel told Dean he didn’t need to bring presents for his brothers and sister, but something had to be brought for him.

Castiel had tickets to the Paris Fashion Week for Anna and Inias plus a Fossil for Inias and Monster Derby tickets for Michael and Gabriel with Rolexes. For Dean, he’d bought a Ducati motorcycle.

That shows love, right?

Hopefully, it would because Castiel wasn’t an affectionate person and hopefully the gift would come off loving.

Hopefully.

 

Dean had spent almost a few days deciding on what to get Castiel. The Milton’s had no idea he was a middle class man, and they would never know. It wouldn’t matter either, it’s not like Castiel was marrying him.

He’d taken quite a bit from his bank account and spent it on a grey Montblanc watch. Jesus it was expensive.

$3 340 to be exact. Dean had paid extra to have it shipped to the hotel directly at the right time and thankfully, it’d come in yesterday.

He’s hoping the gift is worth enough to the Milton’s.

“I got the present.” He assures Castiel and then smiles, “Merry Christmas, by the way.”

Castiel looks over to Dean and smiles softly. His eyes crinkle a little and it sends the pit of Dean’s stomach plummeting.

“Thanks, merry Christmas to you, too.” He replies and Dean’s not sure he’s ever wanted someone to smile as much as he wants Castiel to.

They go eat breakfast and Castiel has to go oversee some errands so Dean stays in the room, watching some TV before he picks up his phone and decides to call Sam.

“Hey, Sammy!”

“Dean? Hey!” Sam’s voice makes Dean smile; he can hear Jess in the background.

“Merry Christmas.” He says happily, and Sam chuckles over the phone.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.”

“How’re you doing? How’s Jess?” Dean asks, flopping down on the bed.

Sam’s voice is a little muffled, but Dean can still hear him when he says, “I’m great and Jess is doing great, what’s up with you?”

“I’m great, going to a dinner, so no Christmas presents or anything.”

“Dinner sounds fun, and don’t worry, you’ll get your presents when you get back.”

Dean can imagine what’s happening. Sam and Jess are probably getting ready for the Christmas dinner, setting the table with cheesy Christmas songs playing in the background wearing ugly sweaters. And if Dean was in Kansas, he would’ve brought 5 six packs and sat at the table with everyone else, all their family. Bobby, Ellen, Jo, Rufus, and Charlie. A slight pang of homesickness hits and Dean suppresses a sigh.

“Sounds great, can’t wait to get back.” Dean says, and he can hear Sam click his tongue.

“Yeah, me either.” Sam pauses, “Jess wants to talk to you.”

Dean doesn’t have a chance to reply before a breathless Jess is on the phone.

“Merry Christmas, Dean.” She says quickly and Dean chuckles, “merry Christmas, Jess.”

“How’s Castiel?” She asks, voice hurried and Dean gets the feeling that’s what she wanted to talk about.

Dean presses his lips together for a moment, “a pain in my ass.” He admits.

Castiel’s okay, lately. But he’s generally someone Dean can’t get far enough from.

“He’s not that bad, Dean.” Jess says quietly and Dean snorts.

“He really is! Fucking douche bag. The guy hates me. I mean, he’s so damn uptight about everything!” Dean feels like a ranting teenage girl, but he can’t help it.

 

Castiel sighs, rubbing his chin. He’s pretty damn grateful the documents got to the FedEx office today. They were closed but Castiel had paid extra to get someone to come collect them. He shuffles into the hotel room quietly, slipping off his coat and gloves. He’s pretty useless when it comes to the business. All he’s able to do is look over documents and chase after clients. Castiel is pretty sure if he wasn’t born, he wouldn’t be needed. He sighs heavily.

He frowns when he hears a muffled voice in the hotel room. It’s not his business to listen in; it’s a private conversation between Dean and however is on the phone. Yet he can’t help but listen when his name is mentioned.

“Jesus Christ! Castiel’s always angry. I mean, the guy gets angry about the bed. And everything else. Every single thing. He doesn’t like the way I dress. He doesn’t like the way I hold his hand. Fucking nagger, he complains all the time. If I wasn’t being paid, I would have run all the way back to Kansas. I’m telling you, Jess, I can’t do this any longer.”

Castiel’s heart races and he chews on his bottom lip.

Oh.

So that’s what Dean thinks of him. Castiel takes a seat on the couch, tugging at the strands of hair that fall onto his forehead.

Yeah, just what he’d thought. In a sense, Castiel feels like a sore loser. Ever since Dean and him had fought, Castiel had tried to be nicer. Fuck, he’d tried. Castiel hadn’t complained a single time when Dean held him close and he’d stopped trying to make Dean wake up earlier. He was trying because Dean doesn’t deserve Castiel’s treatment. He doesn’t deserve to be talked to like that and Castiel’s realized that pretty fast. So he keeps most of his remarks to himself. Yet this is what Dean thinks of him.

Castiel tries not to let it bother him too much. He clears his throat and says a quick “hello!” to make his presence known.

Dean’s voice goes low then and Castiel waits patiently until he walks out of the bedroom.

Then Castiel smiles. His nicest, most sickly sweet smile before gesturing to the bedroom.

“I’m a bit tired, are you using the bedroom?”

Dean watches him, confused before he nods, “uh, yeah, go ahead.”

Castiel strips down and changes into sweatpants and a loose shirt.

“Will you wake me up before 5?” He calls and Dean hollers back with a yes.

Castiel lets himself loose and falls asleep, trying not to think about how much of a dick Dean is.

Which he totally fucking is.

Castiel’s never been one to curse someone

But all he wants is for a bus to run over Dean.

They go eat dinner at one of Vancouver’s finest restaurants and not once does Castiel pay attention to Dean. He’s probably overreacting and a part of him expected this sooner or later but it hurts more than it should.

After dinner, Dean and him change into more casual clothing and head to Anna and Inias’ room in silence, holding their presents.

Anna smiles at Castiel and hugs him, hugging Dean too. Castiel can’t help but wonder if he should give the motorcycle to Dean anymore. It’s not like he’ll want it from Castiel the uptight douche bag.

“Merry Christmas, Castiel!” Anna says excitedly and takes her seat beside Inias on the couch. Michael and Gabriel are already seated on the couch and Castiel tries to squish with all four of them but he simply doesn’t fit.

Dean’s taken the love seat and Castiel sighs, taking a seat on the floor.

“Get off the floor, Castiel, sit with Dean.” Anna chuckles unhelpfully and Castiel blinks, getting up. Dean makes room, as much as he can but Dean is one muscular guy so Castiel is forced to climb into his lap. Dean’s arms wrap around him and he squirms uncomfortably. Thinking about being near the person who so obviously hates Castiel is a little sickening.

“Okay!” Anna claps her hands excitedly and proceeds to hand her presents to Castiel, Gabriel, Michael and Dean.  
“I have something special for you.” She winks at Inias and Castiel can’t help but gag.

Castiel looks inside his bag and finds a card, it’s a standard merry Christmas, and I hope you have a great New Years and many more joyful moments card. There’s also a ticket to the British Art Museum gala. Castiel smiles and thanks her. Gabriel’s gotten Castiel an art history book and Michael hands him a small box. There’s cufflinks inside. From Inias, there’s a fine cut crystal and diamond ring. He thanks all of them of them before handing his presents to them.

Anna and Inias are appreciative of their gifts and a Michael and Gabriel make a big deal about theirs. They get into a heated argument about which monster truck they’ve put their bets on until Anna interrupts.

“Uh, I didn’t know about the gift exchange, so I’m really sorry, but I only got Castiel a present.” Dean apologizes and even though Castiel can’t see Dean, he can tell he’s embarrassed.

“It’s fine, Dean.” Anna says sincerely and Castiel is a bit thankful for that. Although he wants Dean to feel dirt embarrassed, he controls it.

Dean hands him the wrapped box and Castiel opens it to find a watch.

“Thank you, Dean.” He says drily, and hands Dean the wrapped box with the motorcycle key inside.

Dean’s eyes widen as soon as he notices the Ducati logo and his mouth falls open a little when he sees the key.

“Merry Christmas.” Castiel adds pathetically and Dean looks up.

“Thank you, Castiel.” He says softly, sliding his hand within Castiel’s and holding on. He has to crane his neck a little to kiss Castiel’s cheek, since Castiel’s sitting in his lap and has a bit of height.

Castiel musters up the nicest smile he can and nods, “you’re welcome.”

Anna coos a little, getting up momentarily to dim the lights and puts on How the Grinch Stole Christmas.

As they watch, Castiel grinds down as much of his weight on Dean, and he doesn’t even feel sorry.

 


	2. Chapter 2

January 1

Castiel spends a great deal of the wedding morning sleeping.  
He was up really late on New Year's Eve.  
Not that he had special things to do. But because he couldn't sleep. He'd spent a great deal of the night thinking about Dean. And it wasn't positive.  
For some stupid reason Castiel acted like an over worried teenager. He knew Dean didn't like him.  
In fact, he could quite possible call it hate. Dean hated him. And with that knowledge, every time they touched or talked, Castiel felt stiff. He possessed the knowledge that no one else had, and knowing how much Dean despised him made everything different. His train of thought had expanded and before he knew it, time had ticked away as he slept.  
When he managed to blink awake, Castiel realized he'd slept in. The wedding is supposed to start at 3:30 but here Castiel is, at 2:30 scrambling between the shower and the sink, shaving quickly as he brushes his teeth and gels his hair. Yeah, he's what you call a hot mess except he's missing the hot. Castiel moans when he notices the bags under his eyes, he spits and rinses his mouth with water and cleans off his razor. Castiel spends the next ten minutes messing around with his hair, trying to get all the strands into one area. Defeated, he gives up and leaves the bathroom. And then he notices that Dean's fast asleep on the couch. Fucking hell. As Castiel dresses he gives Dean a rough shove.  
"Wake up! We're going to be late!" He hisses, tucking his shirt into his slacks, buttoning them up.  
He resorts to slapping Dean's head, (he has to admit he enjoys it) until finally, Dean blearily blinks. Castiel pinpoints the moment when Dean realizes today's the wedding say and jumps up. He's drooling a little and his hair is fucked up but his eyes are wide and his mouth nearly falls open so it's good enough for Castiel.  
"Shower, go!" Castiel gives him a push towards the bathroom. He's doing his tie when Dean stumbles out of the shower, freshly shaved and dripping wet. Dean shuffles over to Castiel, frowning a bit.  
Castiel presses his lips together, still fumbling with the knot before gesturing to the temporary racks.  
"Go, get dressed. Naomi dropped off your wedding tux yesterday." He instructs, groaning. After almost 20 years, you'd think Castiel could tie a tie. Just as Castiel ties his own tie, satisfied that he's finally done, he turns to face Dean.  
As Dean dresses, Castiel tries to fix his hair again, and it melds into a half nice gelled style.  
Dean cleans up nice. Perhaps it's because Castiel's never noticed how nicely Dean dresses, even though he's dressed almost all the time.  
He's wearing a charcoal grey tuxedo with a navy vest underneath, a white shirt and a navy and grey tie. And Castiel has to admit; he himself doesn't look too bad. Aside from the dark bags under his eyes and the hopeless hair, Castiel is fine. Castiel slips his phone into his pocket, tugging on Dean's arm persistently.  
"Will you hurry?" They manage to leave the hotel on time, the wedding is at the Vancouver church, which isn’t too far, and so Castiel is grateful.  
There's a limousine waiting for them, Castiel and Dean hurry inside, sighing deeply. A part of Castiel is so damn proud. His sister is getting married.  
This is the day he'd tortured himself over.  
Finding Dean, putting up with Dean. After this day, it wouldn't matter anymore. He's glad, but Castiel can't deny that he might miss Dean. The guy is okay. He doesn't like Castiel, but he’s okay. Castiel still feels like a bitter person when he thinks about how easy it was for Dean to explode and just tell whoever was on the phone about his blunt hatred for Castiel. Yet he was too much of a scaredy cat to confront him about it. Not that it would matter, on the day after the wedding they would all pack up and fly back to Seattle where Castiel would give Dean his money and he’d drive off. Castiel doubts they’ll keep in touch.  
The drive is a little slow, there's a huge snowstorm and the traffic is unforgiving. It doesn't help that the limo is fucking huge.  
"Your sister is getting married." Dean says, snapping Castiel out of his thoughts.  
He nods absentmindedly, "yeah, she is."  
“You must be happy.” Dean continues and Castiel fiddles with his tie.  
“Why do you care?” He says brusquely, unable to lift his gaze to look at Dean.  
“Just trying to make conversation.” Dean says slowly and Castiel simply sighs, “I’m not in the mood.”  
Dean’s silent after that and so is Castiel. The entire ride passes that way and as soon as the limousine parks in front of the church, Castiel puts on his coat.  
“Lets go.” He says to Dean, shivering a little at the cold that hits him when he steps out. There are many other cars and limos parked around the area, men and women step out in fur coats and rush inside. Not the most ideal time for a wedding but they’re all here. Of course they’re here, why wouldn’t they want to witness such an amazing business wise union? The plan is for the ceremony to happen and then for the reception to be held at the hotel ballroom. The drive back would be annoying, but the decorated hall is worth it.  
Castiel and Dean take their seat in the front row, just in front of the alter and the end of the aisle. People continue to file in and take their seats, almost half an hour later Inias takes his place on the platform. He’s looking nervous (no surprise there) and fidgeting. Michael and Gabriel come to sit next to Castiel, both dressed nice for the occasion. Of course, they’re always dressed nicely. Castiel places his hands on his lap, waiting for his sister.  
Anna walks down the aisle clutching onto their dad’s arm, looking stunning in an ivory dress and lacey veil.  
Castiel smiles softly, waiting patiently as she’s walked up the aisle and Inias and her say their vows. It’s interesting, on how despite the fact that their relationship was forged for a business alliance, they managed to end up in love. Funny how it worked, how everyone managed to find the person that would make him or her happy, despite the differences and realities they have to face. Anna and Inias, how odd yet how they fit.  
There’s hushed murmur when Inias kisses Anna, wrapping an arm around her waist. The proud swell in Castiel’s chest only grows. Beside him, Dean’s smiling a sweet smile and Castiel is in too good of a mood to hate on Dean.   
“They’re married…” Castiel murmurs, and Dean turns around to look at him.  
“Crazy, isn’t it? One moment they’re sitting at the dinner table with you, laughing and the next they’re walking down the aisle.” Dean’s smile grows fond and Castiel focuses his attention towards Dean.   
He knows Dean’s talking about Jess and Sam. They were married; Castiel wishes he was there to give Jess and Sam his best wishes. They deserve all the best for helping Castiel like this. Though Dean isn’t exactly what he had in mind, so far, he’s been damn helpful. And the amount of thanks Castiel could give him won’t end.   
“Crazy.” Castiel agrees, parroting Dean.  
The ceremony ends there, it seems as if the day is almost over when they’re back in the limo and off to the hotel.   
The ballroom looks stunning, pale violet ribbons and ivory decorations set so lavishly, Castiel’s still in awe of when it happened and how the wedding planner managed.  
Back at the hotel, Castiel stands by idly, hands shoved into his pockets despite how odd and unprofessional it looks. The waiters skim by him, yet he’s perfectly comfortable with standing here. Out of his peripheral vision, Castiel can see Gabriel with a pretty blonde woman, and Michael’s standing with their mother. Anna and Inias haven’t let each other go, hands clutched together and dancing. Her smile is so big, and Castiel assumes it’s because she’s damn happy and Castiel knows he would be too if he was in that position.   
“What’re you doing here?” It’s Dean, he’s come to stand next to Castiel.  
Castiel simply shrugs, noticing Dean’s cheeks are flush. He must’ve been dancing with someone.   
“Why don’t you dance with me?” Dean’s question seems innocent, holding out a hand to lead Castiel back to where everyone else is dancing to the sweet croon of Frank Ocean.   
Castiel looks away briefly, unsure. Then he nods, slipping his fingers within Dean’s and letting himself be tugged towards the floor.   
It seems like Dean knows what he’s doing; yet Castiel ends up being that cliché clueless idiot. Probably because he doesn’t dance, not one bit and everyone in this ballroom has ten times more experience than him.   
“I don’t know what I’m doing.” He admits, letting himself chuckle because Dean’s tugging him close, too close because no one is looking, they’re too wrapped up within their own dances yet Dean’s locking his arm around Castiel’s waist.  
“Tell you what, I’ll teach you how to dance if you want.” Dean suggests and his voice is so light, so sweet.   
Castiel doesn’t know what to make of it.  
“Just put your hand on my shoulder.” Dean looks at ease, smiling softly and it makes Castiel wonder if he drank some champagne. Castiel himself is pleasantly buzzed from the couple of glasses he had earlier from being so utterly bored that he just grins and goes along with what Dean’s saying.   
He does as told, pressing up into Dean’s space and gripping Dean’s hand with his other tightly.   
“We just move.” Dean says again, knocking Castiel back to reality.   
They’re moving; Dean gets closer every time Castiel accidentally stumbles, stepping on Dean’s foot. He feels bad because he really can sympathize with having your toes stepped on.  
“Maybe you should move over?” Cas suggests, mimicking some of the women dancing and letting himself sag back and against Dean’s shoulders. He’s not as tall as Dean, but Cas is barely a couple inches shorter, so it isn’t too much of a difference.  
“But I like it here.” Dean whispers into Castiel’s ear, moving smoothly. Castiel attempts to follow, his steps a bit too lagged and he ends up pressing down onto Dean’s left foot. He winces and Dean simply noses at Castiel’s jaw. It sends a shiver up Castiel’s spine. His lips seem to pull and Castiel can tell he’s smiling.   
It’s then when he realizes what’s actually happening.  
Now Castiel can really feel the uncomfortable running through him.   
He’s clearly not buzzed enough to deal with this, Dean is far too close and he must’ve drunk more than Castiel. So close that Castiel can smell the peach champagne on his breath.  
Hesitantly, Castiel steps back, letting his hand fall limp against his side.   
“I’m going to go get something to drink.” He mutters, because this is Dean and Castiel could never mask out those words he heard from Dean.   
Dean cocks his head to the side, as if processing what Castiel’s saying and it’s as if he can feel Castiel’s urge to get away when his smile fades and he nods.   
He’s gone after that and Castiel forgets all about his drink. He’s back to standing awkwardly again and a part of him wishes he hadn’t pushed Dean away. Dean wasn’t exactly sober and Castiel’s buzz made him brave enough to dance with Dean. But he’s blown it now and Castiel can’t bother with fixing it.   
Anna’s got Castiel in her grasp within the next hour.   
“Come dance with me.” Her dress dances around her and Castiel wants to protest. He’s not feeling it right now, especially since he’s ruined his own mood but this is his sister. His smart, funny, beautiful sister on her wedding day and how can Castiel deny her? So he lets himself be jostled to the dance floor again, this time Anna’s hand within his. She places both hands on Castiel’s shoulders and Castiel imitates with his hands on her waist.   
“I can dance.” He assures her, cracking a smile because of dancing with Dean earlier.   
She laughs, and another strand of flaming red falls loose from her bun. Her hair is styles up in a lovely rose style bun, Castiel really can’t think of his sister looking more radiant.   
“Where’s Dean?” She asks after a couple seconds of silence. It sends Castiel into a mindset and he simply moves his body to the song.   
“He wasn’t feeling too good so he went back to the room.” Castiel murmurs, just because it’s such a lie and he feels a bit like a douche bag for lying. He can’t exactly say Dean left randomly. He wouldn’t be upset because Castiel stopped dancing, he wouldn’t let that affect him. Dean doesn’t involve feelings where Castiel’s concerned and he’s figured it out by now.  
“That’s too bad.” Anna says, clucking her tongue. Castiel shrugs, and Anna looks up again.   
“Maybe you should go check on him?” Anna proposes, eyes watching Castiel so casually.   
“Are you kicking me out of your wedding?” Castiel scoffs, unable to stop his smile as he tries hard to keep his straight face on.   
“Maybe, Milton.” Anna says, unfazed.   
“He’ll be fine.” Castiel says finally, tucking Anna’s hair back. She frowns a bit, cocking her head to the side. It’s painfully familiar to the same look he faced almost an hour ago when he let Dean’s hand go.   
“Are you sur–”  
“I’m sure, Anna.” Castiel responds sharply.   
And then he sighs, stepping back a little and letting his sister follow before swaying to the side. He’s dancing, he supposes.   
“I’m sorry.” Castiel says finally and Anna looks up to him.   
“It’s fine, I was just worried.” She says, smiling again. Castiel’s glad that him being an utter dick isn’t ruining her day.   
It seems as if once Anna gets whisked away by Michael, some of the women take an interest in Castiel.   
Which he can’t fathom why because he’s really not too good at dancing yet all he seems to be doing the entire night is dancing.   
Stumbling over the feet of everyone who has the displeasure of holding his hand, but it seems as though every time he lets one hand go, another one slips into his grasp.   
There’s a never-ending list of songs, classics and cheesy love songs.   
Eventually, Castiel pauses the dancing to down two glasses of champagne, sipping at his third before a woman named Hannah asks him to dance. He’s buzzed enough to feel confidence course through him and he agrees happily.   
Hannah isn’t much of a dancer either, but it’s okay because he’s feeling loopy and Hannah has a really pretty smile.   
“My sister is the one who got married.” Castiel points out, swaying lightly on his tiptoes. Hannah helps him; her grip is strong at the moment.   
“That’s great, I’m sure you’re very happy.” She comments, letting Castiel hold onto her waist. She’s wearing a pale pink wrap dress that goes to her knees.   
Castiel nods, grinning at her.   
They dance until Castiel is so sure his feet are going to fall off and the patent leather becomes so unforgiving that they end up at a table, drinking more champagne.   
Hannah’s grumbling about how her heels are going to eat her alive and Castiel sits, wishing there was more to drink.   
It’s silent after that. Between Castiel and Hannah. But just as people begin to leave, congratulating Inias and Anna in a trickle, Hannah takes Castiel’s phone and taps her number in.   
“Call me sometime, we can hang out.” She says, patting Castiel’s shoulder. He nods; weary because this damn light champagne isn’t making him drunk. He’s not oddly depressed because Dean left him alone, but because the mood is just right.   
Hannah leaves after that, and it’s not soon before almost everyone is gone. The ballroom is barren and the only people left are Anna, Inias, Michael and Gabriel.   
Castiel is vaguely aware of the excuse their father made about having work and how their mother was tired.   
They were quick to leave.   
Castiel heads over to Anna and Inias, who’re sitting on an empty table, Anna’s feet stretched in Inias’ lap. Her heels sit smack on the floor and Castiel almost trips over them.  
He smiles fondly, kissing her forehead.   
“I’m so happy for you, Anna.” He murmurs and she smiles, wrapping an arm around him in a crooked hug.   
“You look like you’re going to pass out, go back to your room.” Anna tells him softly, patting Castiel’s shoulder.   
He nods, yawning bleakly. Castiel’s in the mood to shove Dean off the balcony and then sleep until he’s dead.   
It’s nearly midnight, but Castiel’s addicted to the peach champagne (which is much better than regular champagne) so he snatches Anna’s glass and downs it.   
“How much did you drink?” She asks with a laugh and Castiel grins, still insanely loopy. Hopefully, he can sleep it off.  
“Can’t remember.” He says, accompanying it with a quick goodnight.   
Castiel slips his suit jacket off, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening his tie. He manages to stumble back to his room, jacket slung over his shoulder.   
Manage is a bad word because Castiel spends five minutes trying to get into the locked door until he realizes the room isn’t even his. It takes him effort and squinting to find his shared room.   
Thankfully, it’s unlocked and thankfully, he’s not too much of an idiot and he locks it.  
Castiel finds himself humming the ridiculously cheesy song that was playing earlier and he chuckles, letting his jacket fall to the floor and shuffling to the bed. 

Dean’s wide awake when Castiel comes back.   
He sighs heavily from his place on the couch and decides it’s better to pretend he’s fast asleep.   
But within a span of ten seconds, there’s a small thump. It’s the sound of Castiel flopping on the bed and from what Dean can fathom, he’s still fully dressed.   
Castiel blew him off at the wedding. They were supposed to be each other’s dates to the wedding. And it sucks to be blown off. For 4 hours Castiel was down in the ballroom, and Dean called Sam, watched shitty TV, ate the crap out of the food in the fridge and then called Sam again until his brother huffed out a yawn and hung up.   
He’s staring at the dark ceiling, preoccupied and trying not to wonder if Castiel drank a lot. Or if he bothered to take his shoes off. Or if he changed or at least took off his vest.   
Finally, Dean can’t take it anymore; he really just needs to check really quickly. He tells himself it’s because Castiel will feel shitty in the morning and it could lead to questions he’d rather not answer and not it’s not because he’s worried.  
Dean pads over to the bed silently, groaning lightly when he sees Castiel hasn’t even bothered to tuck himself in.   
He pokes Castiel.  
“Aye, Cas, wake up.” He hisses, poking him again. Castiel lets out a sound cross between a groan and a whine.   
Dean screws his face up.   
Castiel is a fucking idiot.   
“Just five minutes, you idiot.” He says under his breath, helping Castiel off the bed. Castiel just blinks blearily, and from Dean gathers, he’s having a hard time standing.   
“Five minutes.” Dean says again, unbuttoning Castiel’s vest fully and slipping it off his shoulders.   
He makes quick work because as Dean sinks to his knees, Castiel is beginning to tip.   
If Dean is ever asked what his greatest accomplishment is, he can say that it has to be taking the pants off of a drunk, sleepy man.   
Which proves harder than it should be because Castiel isn’t being a good sport and keeps swaying and he’s physically incapable of lifting his fucking feet so Dean can get them off.  
By the time he’s helping a sluggish, boxer and button up shirt clad Castiel into the bathroom, Dean wonders why it was even a good idea.  
But then he sees how mussed up and sleepy Castiel is and decides that it’s fine because it’s not like he was doing anything aside from pattering about in the room.   
Dean has a hard time finding the brush that belongs to Castiel because there are five in the small bathroom canister and then he realizes all five of them belong to Castiel.   
He picks a random, plain white one and decides that the electric toothbrush is a brush he’s too lazy to help Castiel with.   
By now, Castiel’s come to his senses a bit more, and he’s waiting silently until Dean hands him a brush.   
“Brush.” He instructs and leaves the bathroom briefly to grab a bottle of water from the fridge.   
He sets it on the dresser and when he finds Castiel half asleep against the counter, he gives him a shove and then grabs the brush.   
“Open.” He says and when Castiel flashes his teeth as he would if smiling, Dean makes it his personal mission to scrub Castiel’s teeth.   
“We speak of this to no one.” He grumbles, getting behind and over Castiel’s tongue until the poor guy accidentally chokes. Dean is a bit more careful after that.   
Satisfied, Dean helps Castiel to the bed and opens up the water bottle for him.   
“Drink it so you feel less like shit in the morning.” Dean says.  
Castiel drinks the water slowly, letting out a gruff noise afterwards. Dean helps him into bed wordlessly, shoving him under the covers before slipping under the sheets on the couch.   
“Night, Cas.” He mumbles softly, turning a little to get comfortable.   
Somehow, he falls asleep easy after that.  
Dean wakes up again around 5am. He’s sleepy and irritated yet his mind begins to whir and he realizes if he doesn’t get some shuteye now, he’s not going to be able to deal with hung-over Castiel in the morning. Not on his own accord, hell no. If it were up to him he wouldn’t let any poor soul wake up before 12am.   
It is, in fact, because Castiel’s poking his cheek, eyes squinted as he looms over Dean.   
“Will you teach me how to dance, now?” He questions quietly and Dean blinks groggily, unable to see more than Castiel’s shadow in the dark.   
“Sure, Cas, sure.” Dean murmurs, stumbling up and off of the couch. He nearly trips over the blanket that was previously on top of him but now sit on the floor against Castiel’s feet.  
Castiel looks like a train wreck.  
No doubt that he feels tired and lagged because of how much he drank, but there’s an aura he carries. Castiel’s smile is plaintive when Dean slips his hand within Castiel’s, tugging him towards the balcony.   
It’s cold as fuck, there’s no doubt about it. Yet Castiel only pads after him into the freezing weather, wearing nothing but boxers and his button up.   
“You’re going to put one hand on my shoulder.” Dean instructs, keeping his voice low. It’s like they’ve built a space. A special space that lingers in sleep but keeps jutting Dean into reality. It’s mellow and soft, Dean’s senses are clouded and all he can feel is the bite of the harsh, winter wind and Castiel’s hand resting on his shoulder. Dean can’t be bothered with personal space as he places one firm hand on Castiel’s hips, pulling him closer until Castiel’s nose brushes against his chin. Then he moves. It’s a light sway to the right, gentle and pulling Castiel with him one way and then another. There’s no music, no beat, no rhythm. Dean wavers his body to the sound of his heartbeat, drumming steady against Castiel’s.   
The cold nips at Dean’s nose and no doubt that Castiel feels just as cold, if not colder. Dean’s arms are going numb when Castiel pulls away, ever so slightly cocking his head to the side and examining Dean. His eyes scan over and over, a way that makes Dean flinch, just a little under the scrutiny.   
He’s not expecting Castiel to blurt, “I know you don’t like me.”   
Dean takes a moment, processing the words with confused expression.  
“What?” He asks, ceasing his movements but gripping Castiel’s icy hand.   
“I – I heard you that day, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but I heard my name and, and you were telling someone that you didn’t like me. I know you don’t.” Castiel’s babbling, hand no longer holding Dean’s shoulder. Instead, he’s attempting to get away, eyes pained and flickering with whirls of emotion Dean can’t fathom. Dean only holds on tighter, sliding his fingers within Castiel’s slim ones, holding on. He won’t let go.   
Dean stares. Castiel’s nose and ears have gone pink and his eyes are big, teeth worrying his bottom lip within them.   
“I know.” He says after a second.   
“I don’t deny it.” He says again, bumping his forehead with Castiel’s.   
“A-and I’m sorry, I don’t think that, at least not anymore. You’re not like that, I think.” Dean admits, voice slow as Castiel’s eyes cloud over with confusion and skepticism.   
Wind gusts over them, powerful and cold.  
“No,” Dean pauses, “I know you’re not like that.” Dean brushes away the strands of hair that fall into Castiel’s eyes with freezing fingers. But he doesn’t want to move. Not when Castiel’s watching him like this, blinking a couple times as to adjust to his information. Dean’s bare feet are cold as fuck, his arms feel like 100 000 needles have been shoved into his skin and he can’t even feel his face anymore.   
But he doesn’t move and instead, kisses Castiel’s cheek, mumbling, “I’m sorry.”  
Castiel flinches and a wave of hurt washes over Dean. He moves away, giving Castiel the space he’s initiating.   
Instead, Castiel simply shivers, “I’m cold.” He states and Dean can’t help but chuckle. He leads Castiel back inside, body melting into the intense warmth inside the room in comparison to the icy cold on the balcony. Dean’s a dumbass for taking them into that cold in the first place.   
They stand there awkwardly, hands laced and rocking on their heels until Castiel surges up, kissing Dean.  
On the mouth.  
Because he wants to.  
The feeling is returning to Dean’s face now.  
Dean stumbles back a little, finding his balance and then letting his hands rest at the sharp handles of Castiel’s hips. He holds on, kissing Castiel back just as fiercely. When Castiel pulls away to breathe, Dean can’t stop the grin that takes over his face.   
Castiel, too, is smiling, but it’s masked quickly.  
“Are you sure?” He asks and Dean furrows his eyebrows, “about?”  
“Are you sure?” Castiel repeats, “that you actually want…this? With me?” He motions to the small distance between them with his hand.   
Dean pulls Castiel flush to his chest.   
“I am.” Dean insists, hooking one finger against the waistband of Castiel’s boxers, unable to stop the yawn that overcomes him.   
Castiel smiles, it’s a small, crooked smile that tugs at Dean’s heart. He’s seen the way Castiel’s family treat him. Insignificant, unneeded. Which he isn’t. Castiel is smart, brilliant and quick with his mouth. He’s got his quirks and his downsides, but he’s only human. And he doesn’t deserve to be treated like that.  
Dean will make sure no one ever treats Castiel like that again.   
“Here.” Dean says quickly, jostling Castiel back to the bed. He helps him into the sheets, covering him so he isn’t cold.   
“Night, Cas.” Dean mutters, pressing a kiss to Castiel’s forehead before shuffling back to the couch. He’s not sure where it leaves him and Castiel. What will happen when Dean wakes up and they start packing.   
He’s not sure about any of that.  
But he’s sure that it will be alright, and he does like Cas.   
He likes him with all his ups and downs. He will still like Castiel in the morning. He will like Castiel the day after, he’ll like Castiel when he gets back home and he will like Castiel as long as Castiel likes him back. And for now, Dean’s glad he doesn’t know about tomorrow.   
Because Castiel alone can change that, and together, they’ll be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm done! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I might write a sequel, I don't know?? But thank you for reading lovelies. :-)

**Author's Note:**

> im so sorry dear but i just didn't have time but i promise i will finish this! xx


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